On The Path To Emotional Freedom

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In The Muck

Warning: if you are the kind of person who does not enjoy listening to other people kvetch (Yiddish for complain), then this blog post is not for you. Because that is what I plan to do: complain, complain, complain my ass off. If only you really could complain and tone your ass simultaneously… That being said, the only redeeming caveat I can offer, is that I may try to make you laugh.

I have had looow energy for the past few weeks. This is to contrast the incredibly hiiiigh energy I have been riding since I wrote the post about my experience with Alana Sheeren (an incredible woman who is pouring her whole being into the idea of self-love. Look her up online at http://www.alanasheeren.com. Imagine if we all actually liked ourselves. World peace? I doubt it. But I guarantee you sex-toy shop sales would go up!). I have been riding this wave of intensity for the past few months, all related to finishing my memoir, starting this blog, and being willing to molt, like a snake. If I really were a snake, I would have half my skin hanging off, all papery and patterned from the life it had lived, while the top half of me gleamed in the sun, its beams reflecting the most incredible metallic green hues off my slithery, slippery skin. Writing about the rawness of my life and my kids, has been like a favorite toy I just can’t put down. There is serious irony here! Exposing my life (both to me and you) has connected me with some of the most intensely passionate feelings I have known. It has been soooo good, it’s been addictive. It has been only 3-weeks since I posted for the first time with Reddit, an online social networking site. I posted “Intimacy, Incest and The Need For Italics with Both” and got 448 views, 300 of which came from Reddit. A week later, I am banned from the site, not having known that posting only your own stuff over and over again is a GIANT no-no in that world, and a permanent time out. Doesn’t matter that I sent them 3-emails asking for help and they never responded, by the time I read their “reddiquette” rules, it was too late. I walk with my head in shame, a giant “S” etched into my chest! “Spammer!” it says, and in case you don’t know, a “spammer” is someone out to sell a product or promote themselves in some way. Do I fit the bill? Maybe. But those Mf’ers could have at least told me what was happening at any point during my 3 emails. I had never even heard of Reddit a month ago; now I am banned. I am such a bad-ass!

Back to the addiction…right before I got booted from Reddit, I was at a point where I was checking my blog hits 15x a day (possibly more), and thinking about it all the time. Do I sound like a beacon of spirituality or like some crazy junkie in need of a fix? Perhaps it was a good thing that Reddit kicked me off (Not! Those mf-ers). None of the other social networking sites have even come close to providing me with the hits that Reddit has. And I know this because Reddit attempted to delete all of my submissions, 7 in total, but they missed some. These posts get hits every day. Thank-you Reddit! Thank you for helping my story go from one end of the world to another. Why you have to be such shits, I don’t understand.

And speaking of the “S” word, let’s talk about my 2 “S”pecial needs kids (you can figure out on your own which “s” word I mean). Damn I love those kids, but DAMN are they driving me crazy! I have Louis, the ADHD+Non-Verbal-Learning-Disordered=%#$!!!@!! kid, and Aiden, the learning disabled+incredibly angry=%^&$#@!!! kid. Aiden, after having taken a nice long break from ticking, is backing to ticking nonstop. Mostly vocal tics, that sound like a gulp, many times a day. Of course Louis and all of his sensitivities can’t stand it. Louis will scream at Aiden, call him a bad boy or worse, maybe even get physical. Aiden will respond by screaming back and always getting physical, until the two of them have to be separated. It’s been miserable….I just ordered noise reduction headphones for Louis, which I am desperately hoping will help this situation.

Family life has been intense. We just returned from a 6 day vacation in the sun with Paul’s parents. Our rooms were adjoining, and luckily, Aiden was thrilled to be around grandma and grandpa. He slept with them, and was in their suite almost half the time. That saved us. It was last July when I swore I would take a looong break from all of us vacationing together, as our recent trips involved more fighting, crying and tantrums than Paul and I could bear. Works much better when we vacation separately, with Paul and I swapping kids to the various places we travel to. I was so immersed in family life, I was beyond saturation. And it was on this trip that I became crazy with checking my stats, and crazy with posting to Reddit. I am fucking crazy, I see that clearly now.

Yet on top of this, at the very tippy top, continues to reside my deep desire to strip away, to completely go bare, to face my nakedness with courage and strength. When you’re naked, there’s no place to go, no place to hide; you have to see yourself for who you are. This includes that which is painful, and that which has been hiding. Anybody interested in getting naked with me? I am reading Ana T. Forrest’s memoir, Fierce Medicine. (Incredible book, and I’m only half-way through!). In this book, she talks about the Death Meditation: a ritual where you take your mind and spirit, and even parts of your body, to the point of near death. It is here that one finds what is truly important, what is the heart’s desire, vs. all the other crap we carry around, because this is what we think we need. We you read about near death experiences, they almost always involve personal life transformation in some way. I totally dig it!

So I wrap up here, with a heavy heart and incredibly low energy. Part of me wants to fight this, to make it go away, but I know this is not the way. I need to be where I am, with my low energy and heavy heart, and let that be ok. I think of a quote that I came across a few years ago, written by anonymous: